


Kinktober 2016: That's Not Ectoplasm

by neversaydie



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Asphyxiation, Bukkake, Creampie, Dirty Talk, Dissociation, Dom Bucky Barnes, Dom/sub, Double Penetration, Drunk Sex, Dubious Consent, Edgeplay, Edging, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Face-Fucking, Fingerfucking, Humiliation, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kinktober 2016, M/M, Masochism, Multi, Omorashi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Panic Attacks, Pegging, Polyamory, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Public Sex, Scene Gone Wrong, Size Difference, Spanking, Sub Bucky Barnes, Sub Steve Rogers, Temperature Play, Threesome, Under-negotiated Kink, Watersports, Waxplay, Wetting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-19 05:06:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 15,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8191315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neversaydie/pseuds/neversaydie
Summary: What it says on the tin: 31 days of smut. Drawing in characters from pretty much all my existing verses, each chapter will be labelled and linked with the verse it takes place in. Day fourteen: watersports/omorashi.





	1. Day One: Spanking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place in the [BABY MAKES THREE](http://archiveofourown.org/series/438970/) verse. Basically all you need to know is MCU canon verse, Steve and Bucky have a kid. This is before they have the kid.

"So what d'you think about discipline and stuff?"

Before you have a baby with someone, it turns out there are a lot of things you need to discuss. Planning to parent seems a lot more complicated than actually parenting, from Steve's perspective. Bucky's bought a thousand books on the subject, of course, because he's always been a fucking nerd and his latest method of fighting anxiety is to gather as much information as possible. Steve's been too nervous to even look at them so far.

"Discipline?" Steve cocks his head curiously, turning to face his husband on the couch. The movie has been forgotten for a while, given up on when they started having another Serious Discussion about their future child. "Like spanking?"

Given the way they grew up, when spanking wasn't _a_ form of discipline but _the_ form of discipline, it's not unreasonable that it's the first thing that comes into his head. Bucky nods seriously, having clearly gone through the same thought process himself, and slings his metal arm over the back of the couch so they can talk about this head on.

"Yep. I just wanna be clear that it's never on the table, ever. Not that I think you'd be for it anyway, but it's non-negotiable. No corporal punishment, ever." Steve opens his mouth to agree with Bucky's vehemence, but before he can get the words out – "I mean, you can spank me, Rogers, but you can't spank our kid."

Steve blinks. Bucky realises what he's said and turns red as a tomato.

This is too sweet.

"I can spank you?" Steve's lips curl up into a disbelieving little smirk and Bucky covers his eyes with a groan. "Was that a Freudian slip?"

"Freud's been almost entirely discredited." He mutters without looking at Steve, which isn't a denial.

"Bucky." Steve tries to fix him with a serious look when he finally uncovers his eyes, but he's too pleased with the situation (and Bucky's embarrassment, because he's always the one showing Steve up and a little payback is very satisfying) to control his face. "Do you want me to spank you?"

They used to do this back in the day, before the war and HYDRA and losing each other. Then, when Bucky came in from the cold, he flinched at raised voices and straight up ducked if someone raised their hand too fast. Anything even resembling violence was totally out of the question, and Steve didn't dare to push Bucky's boundaries beyond a slow, clearly-telegraphed hug for a long time (and still found himself pinned to the floor under three hundred pounds of frightened super-soldier on more than one occasion). They've come a hell of a long way since then, and the fact that they could get this part of their relationship back, long after Steve had given up hoping for it, is a fucking miracle.

"I—. We're—. This is supposed to be a serious discussion about our future." Bucky's flustered, trying to throw Steve off track, but Steve's like a shark once he gets a taste of blood in the water.

"I mean, we could have a serious discussion." He muses, as if he's seriously considering it, and Bucky's shoulders slump a fraction with something that could be relief or disappointment. "Or you could go take your pants off and get on the bed so I can spank the hell outta you."

Bucky hesitates for a second, looking frazzled and slightly torn, then shoves himself off the couch and disappears into the bedroom, already fighting with his belt. Steve takes the opportunity to do a mini victory dance where he can't be seen (how America hasn't figured out he's a fucking dork, he'll never know), before following Bucky to the bedroom at a much more sedate pace.

The sight of his husband on their bed, naked on his hands and knees with his thick ass and thighs facing the door, stops Steve in his tracks for a second and makes his mouth go suddenly dry. It doesn't seem to matter how many times he sees him, he's pretty sure Bucky Barnes will always blow his mind.

"We gonna do this? Or you just gonna stand there all day? I ain't a waxwork." Bucky looks over his shoulder and raises his eyebrows expectantly. Steve's not sure how much he remembers of how they used to do this, but him being a brat is a pretty spot-on call back.

"Getting impatient for it already, huh?" Steve smirks when Bucky drops his head in an attempt to hide his flush as if it isn't creeping down his chest. He crosses the room slowly, folding up his sleeves as he goes. More because he knows Bucky's watching from the corner of his eye than any practical necessity, maybe Peggy was right when she said he was dramatic. "How many d'you want?"

"I don't wanna count, asshole. I wanna get spanked." Bucky mutters, sounding way too irritable for having his ass in the air. Oh yeah, he definitely remembers the way things used to be. Steve bites his lip to hide his grin, running his fingertips lightly over Bucky's skin, up the backs of his thighs and over his ass, to make him shiver.

"Want me to give it the whole, _you've been a bad boy_ thing? Maybe rap your knuckles with a ruler?" He ghosts a touch over the dimples in Bucky's lower back and finds a lot of satisfaction in the bitten-back noise of pleasure that results. This is getting to Bucky, being looked at always did.  

"I hate you. If you're just gonna make fun of me I swear to—" He's cut off by Steve's hand meeting his ass with a _crack_ that whips right through the room and straight to Bucky's dick. Holy shit. He lurches forwards and catches himself on his elbows with the force, ass burning. " _Fuck_."

"Was that too hard? Tell me if you gotta stop." Steve checks in, rubbing his big palm over the pink handprint left on Bucky's ass and, yeah, this is _great_. This is just beyond great, he'd forgotten how much he missed Bucky giving it up to him like this until now.

"Nah, perfect." Bucky rolls his hips a couple of times to suss out the feeling, dick swinging heavy between his legs and reminding him that he's already hard from this. Shit. He settles again, staying on his elbows this time because he'll need the extra bracing. "Lay it on me, sweetheart. Don't hold back."

Steve, to his credit, does as he's told. He warms Bucky up slowly, steady, heavy slaps that bring the blood rushing to his skin and leave him sensitive when Steve really starts to lay into him. Bucky buries his face in his elbow and tries to muffle the sounds he's making, utterly failing at not sounding totally wanton as he punctuates every slap and pause with a groan. He feels like a whore, definitely sounds like one, and every blow sends bolts of pleasure shooting right through him, to the point where he actually whines when Steve pauses to catch his breath.

"Don't stop." Bucky huffs out, voice cracking in a way that would be embarrassing if he weren't so ridiculously close right now. "Fuck, please Steve. I'm gonna…"

"Oh fuck, baby. You gonna come just from this?" Steve grabs his ass and rakes his nails over the patches that are starting to bruise, dragging a strangled moan from deep in Bucky's chest. He sounds wrecked, he feels it too. "You're so good for me, so beautiful when you're such a slut for it like this. Gonna come all over yourself just from having your ass beat."

He picks up the rhythm again as he talks, and Steve never talks dirty unless he's turned on as hell. Bucky would look back and see if he's jerking off with his free hand, but he can't make himself move. He feels like piano wire, pulled tight enough to snap as the hot pain on his skin seeps into liquid pleasure and pressure and if he just—

Bucky comes so hard he sees stars, shooting onto the bed with Steve's hand bruising his ass and without a single touch to his dick. His hips twitch at nothing, riding out the high as Steve laughs, breathless and delighted, behind him. He'd better be jerking off, because Bucky's not letting him fuck him now his ass is probably the same colour as a plum. And he got off on it as hard as he's ever gotten off in his life.

He's never, ever going to live this down.


	2. Day Two: Dirty Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS PART IS NOT SMUT
> 
> Some of these will not be smut, strictly speaking (I mean look it's me writing this shit). They'll be smut-adjacent or related, but it won't always be the horizontal monster mash. Sometimes it'll be just pure angst and h/c. This is one of those times. 
> 
> **Warning for non-explicit mentions of past childhood abuse in this chapter.**
> 
> Set in the [College AU](http://archiveofourown.org/series/472231) verse.

They talked about it.

Steve made _sure_ they fucking negotiated all this shit when Bucky first asked for what he wanted, hesitant to bring the parts of himself that he saw as tainted into their shiny new relationship until he couldn't ignore them anymore. Steve's fine with the masochist thing, didn't think hurting Bucky would get him off but was totally willing to give it a try if it's what his boyfriend needs. He did his research about SSC and RACK, they talked about what they wanted and how far they were willing to go. They established safewords, for fuck's sake. They did everything they were supposed to do.

None of which prepared him for Bucky wedged in between the bathtub and sink, naked and shaking like a leaf after throwing up all over the bedroom floor. Steve doesn't even know what happened, one minute Bucky checked in green, the next he was white as a sheet and lurching off the bed to lose his guts before scrambling away to hide as fast as he could. Luckily he'd been too out of it to lock the bathroom door behind him, or he'd be curled in on himself shaking like he's about to fall apart all alone.

"Buck? Bucky?" Steve doesn't know what to do, he's crouching in front of Bucky like he's some kind of skittish puppy, too afraid to touch him in case he makes things worse. Bucky's just staring at nothing in the direction of the floor, eyes unfocused as he shakes through whatever it is. "Baby, can you hear me?"

He tries to think back to what he might have said, what might have tripped some trigger in his boyfriend's brain. He knows Bucky was adopted, vaguely that he had a shitty early childhood he's barely mentioned to Steve, but there's nothing he said that…

 _"Better be a good boy for me or I'll make you take it like a slut."_ He thought they'd negotiated that, Bucky said he should shove him around and call him names and— _"That's right, be a good little boy for me."_

Oh. Fuck. No.

"Buck, say something. Please." Steve doesn't know if it's the right thing to do, but he shuffles into Bucky's space and reaches out, palms low and easily seen, before he takes hold of his arms carefully but firmly. He doesn't think about _why_ Bucky was triggered, can't do that and stay in the present moment, as much good as he's doing. "Feel that? I got you, okay? You're here with me and you're safe. Okay? Please, baby. Please say something."

It's the longest, worst minute of Steve's life before Bucky responds. He feels too _young_ for this, wishing he had an adult to take over because he's in over his head right now and this is all his fault. Then Bucky blinks a few times and seems to come out of it a little, come back to himself enough to flick his eyes up to meet Steve's without the terrifying blankness of before.

"Steve?" He croaks, eyes darting around the bathroom like he has no idea how they got here, registering the sourness of his mouth and the panic in his boyfriend's face before he squeezes his eyes shut in shame. "Oh god. I knew this would happen."

"You stupid asshole." Steve can't help himself when he cups Bucky's face roughly with his bony fingers, aggressively checking to see if he's really back in the room. He should be gentle, he knows that, but he's too scared to moderate himself right now. Maybe Sam could deal with this appropriately, but Steve isn't Sam and he's never appropriate. "How could you let us try this without _telling_ me you've got limits?!"

"I… I didn't…" He can't get the words out. Steve lets him breathe and take the time, despite wanting to shake Bucky only because he can't shake _himself_ for causing this. "I don't usually… You can't tell when… I thought it'd be okay."

He sounds so unlike himself, small and wrung out without a trace of the bravado that usually characterises him. Steve wants to fucking cry, because he knew Bucky had issues, but _this_?

"Why didn't you…" He's starting to feel sick himself, he doesn't even know how to _ask_ about it. Then he has a horrible thought that comes blurting right out because apparently only _good_ things happen today. "How often does this happen with the people who hire you?"

Bucky stiffens under his touch suddenly, starting to move a little now he's coming back from whatever nightmare he's been in. It's a relief when some heat comes back into his voice, some of the defensiveness he hides behind an easygoing smile if you don't know him as well as Steve does. As well as he thought he did, anyway, because the bombshell that just exploded all over their bedroom floor is a pretty big thing to not know about someone.

"You said you didn't have a problem with that."

"I _don't_ , Bucky. I have a problem with the fact I just fucking triggered you when I didn't know that was a possibility." Steve forces himself to gentle his hands, cradle Bucky's face without grabbing him. Bucky won't look at him again, and the horrible reality of what this means has started to sink in. Steve's heart hurts. "Are you okay? You scared the shit outta me."

"Sorry." So he's not okay, which isn't surprising. He's still holding himself rigid, not turning his face into Steve's palm like he usually does, always acting like he's starved for affection even though he cuddles up with anyone who stands still long enough indiscriminately.

Steve is so out of his depth, but this is Bucky he's dealing with. He's never backed down from a fight in his life, and he's certainly not going to back down from helping the guy he loves.

"Don't be sorry, shit. It's not your fault." Steve can't even think about the _thing_ that's not Bucky's fault. Jesus, why didn't he just put two and two together before diving head-first into something potentially destructive without looking, as usual? "Why didn't you say something? It's not like I'd be mad, baby."

"Didn't want you to know. Figured you wouldn't…" Bucky mumbles, shoulders still hunched up around his ears and oh, this is horrible. This is the part of himself that he clearly doesn't want anybody to see, especially Steve if he'd risk _this_ happening to keep it hidden. "Figured nobody wants damaged goods."

Hell no.

"Stop that." Steve ducks his head and pushes Bucky's chin up and they meet somewhere in the middle. All of Steve's fury and all of Bucky's defeat mingling into something new. "Don't talk about yourself like that. I want you, I don't care what happened in the past. There's _nothing_ wrong with you, this isn't your fucking fault."

"Talk about myself how I want." Bucky grumbles after a long pause, just a shade of stubbornness, and it's enough for Steve to tug him into his arms in sheer relief that he's still here. Bucky goes willingly, folding up against Steve's wiry chest like he's not a damn sight bigger than his boyfriend.

They stay curled up together like that for a while, holding each other on the bathroom floor and silently processing what the hell just happened.

"I think I wanna cool it on the dirty talk for a while." Steve thinks aloud after a while, stroking his fingers over Bucky's hair and trying to resist the urge to go out and fight the _entire world_ because he doesn't know who to punch for causing this. Tonight was supposed to be fun.

"Yeah." Bucky huffs out something that could be a laugh, weak and bitter but still kicking. Still kicking. "Probably not a bad idea."


	3. Day Three: Public

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set in the [College AU](http://archiveofourown.org/series/472231/) after the last instalment.

They're supposed to be making popcorn for movie night when Steve goes up on his tiptoes behind Bucky in the house kitchen. Most of the lights are off except the weak bulb over the stove, and the rest of their friends are curled up in the dark living room, puppy-piling under most of the blankets in the place because they can't afford to turn the heat on this early in the year. That's why Steve has to tug down the collar of Bucky's oversized sweater to kiss his boyfriend's neck, making him giggle quietly at the tickly feeling of Steve's stubble ("It's not peach fuzz! Shut up, Sam!") on his skin.

"We're supposed to be making popcorn." Bucky murmurs when Steve doesn't let up, grinning as he's slowly pinned against the counter by firm hands.

It's been over a month since the fucking _fiasco_ that was them trying to get a little kinky, since Steve got scared and started being cautious with Bucky in a way that nearly tore them apart. They've been working their way past it for a while, and the boner digging into his ass when their friends could walk in at any moment says they're probably officially _past_ the incident now. Bucky is _very pleased_ with this development.

"Better be quiet then." Steve sounds playful even though he's trying to be stern, and Bucky just loves this little dork. He snakes a hand up Bucky's sweater, pinching a nipple and twisting it viciously until Bucky nearly bruises his hips involuntarily trying to buck against the counter. Fuck yeah, that's the stuff. It feels so good to hurt after being denied for so long, he can't help the pathetic little whine that slips out of his throat at the bright burn of pain.

"Shh." Steve admonishes, doing a terrible job of sounding authoritative as he grinds into Bucky's ass and shoves him over the counter so he's bent almost double. Bucky breathes out harshly when he can't make a sound, already feeling drunk on being shoved around like this. He must look fucked out already, because Steve laughs softly and strokes his cheek with character-breaking tenderness when Bucky turns his head to lay it on the counter. "You really love this, don't you?"

"Hell yeah." Bucky must be a little too loud when he agrees, because a voice suddenly cuts in from the front room where the movie has clearly started without them.

"You guys better not be fucking in there." Sam calls loudly, and there might be the _thunk_ of him throwing something at the ajar kitchen door but it's not clear over an explosion on the TV. Steve claps his hand hurriedly over Bucky's mouth, doing a valiant job of keeping his voice steady when he calls back.

"We're making popcorn, get your mind outta the gutter." He shoves his free hand down the back of Bucky's sweatpants as he says it, all innocent indignation, and Bucky bites his palm in retaliation because this is so much better and so much worse than he'd hoped for. Steve's a devious little shit, Bucky doesn't know how the rest of their friends haven't realised.

"Shh, baby." Steve pushes two fingers into Bucky without pause and _oh_ , this is why he told him not to shower after they fucked earlier. Steve Rogers is a sneaky son of a bitch and it's _awesome_. "You stay quiet while I make you come and I'll spank you later, huh? You be good and I'll turn that pretty ass red for you."

The microwave dings and the smell of popcorn fills the kitchen as Steve gets to work, fingering his boyfriend slow and hard just the way he likes. Bucky is utterly fucking silent when he comes all over the door of the cabinet he's shoved over a few minutes later, and Steve goes back to kissing his neck softly and telling him how good he is as Bucky shakily grabs some kitchen paper to wipe up the mess. He feels wrung out from his head to his toes and it's like coming back down to Earth after being away for a long time. He missed this so much.

"You alright?" Steve cups Bucky's jaw with his palm and looks him in the eye when they're cleaned up, checking in to see if he's okay. Bucky doesn't get defensive about it anymore, lets Steve reassure himself that he's really, truly fine. He knows how badly he scared Steve before, and letting him avoid that fear is pretty much the least he can do. "You're so good, baby. You're perfect."

"Thank you." Bucky mumbles softly, turns his face into Steve's palm and kisses where he'd bitten it earlier, suddenly a little shy in the face of praise. He's not thanking Steve for the praise but for the fact he's still here like this, and Steve seems to know that without it being said. Bucky loves him so much he doesn't know what to do with it, sometimes.

They head back into the front room, totally casual as they pass out the big bowls of popcorn. They'd get away with their little sexcapade if Clint didn't take one look at them and smirk before declaring, totally deadpan:

"Oh. They did fuck."

"Guys!" Wanda makes a face and shoves the bowl of popcorn at Pietro, who shoves it at Natasha, who pops a piece in her mouth without hesitation and shoots Steve a proud look that makes him blush. "No fucking next to food!"

"It was in the microwave with the door shut, calm down." Bucky considers the seating arrangements for a moment before pulling back the blankets and plopping himself down in Sam's lap, nestling into his friend to get as snug as possible. Steve rolls his eyes and wedges himself in between Wanda and Natasha on the other side, grabbing Bucky's ankle to pull his foot into his lap. It works.

"You're fucking heavy, man." Sam grumbles, but he shifts around so he's comfortable and doesn't shove Bucky onto the floor. The lack of boundaries has definitely rubbed off on the group, and it's not the worst thing in the world.

Nobody complains as they snuggle up to watch _Die Hard_ together. Bucky falls asleep with his head in the crook of Sam's neck and his legs sprawled over everyone else, because he couldn't be happier with the way things are right now. Life isn't all that bad, these days.


	4. Day Four: Bukkake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No established verse this time, just conjured up for Kinktober. Kinda high schoolish but everyone is of age etc. Brock is creepy older boyfriend as usual. 
> 
> Warning: dub-con, as in consent and then not being sure.

"Just like we talked about, I'll be right here." Brock pets Bucky's hair and kisses him softly, deepening it into something harsh before straightening up, hand tightening to a fist in his boyfriend's hair as he addresses the locker room. "One at a time with his mouth, whatever you want with his hands. You touch his ass and I'll break your fingers. We clear?"

Various murmurs of assent come from around the room, and Bucky concentrates on the sting of Brock yanking on his hair over the top of them. He wants this, Brock suggested it and Bucky jumped at the chance to try out one of his fantasies, something he's only seen in porn that got him off hard and fast. Then before he knew it, within days of bringing it up, Brock had taken payment for the football team to use Bucky to blow off steam and come all over him as many times as they could manage in an hour. Brock's got at least ten years on Bucky, he must know what he's doing to set it all up so fast.

It's just an hour, some small, nervous part of Bucky's brain tells himself. Just an hour, no big deal.

The first guy has a stubby, fat dick that forces his mouth wide but doesn't make him gag. Brock skulks to the back of the room after a minute or two, leaving Bucky alone on his knees in a sea of hard cocks and muscle. Guy one blows on his chest. The second guy has a pencil dick and is so worked up it takes him about thirty seconds to come, shooting on Bucky's neck and chin because he's not expecting it.

Guy number three has a monster cock. It makes Bucky gag when he fucks into his throat, and the rest of the team whoop and holler when he chokes and struggles for breath. Monster cock comes on his face, gumming his eyelashes up so he can't even see who takes the guy's place before they shove into his mouth like he's some kind of blow-up doll.

Then the next guy. Then the next. He loses track of time until he hears someone laughing.

There's suddenly not enough air in the room, which doesn't explain why Bucky is cold all the way down to his bare toes even with all this hot flesh around him. It feels like the walls have crept in a couple of feet since he knelt down, and he opens his stinging eyes when yet another guy moves into position to catch something he can't tell is a camera flash or not. Are they filming him? He's got a dick in his mouth and hands in his hair and someone grabbing his hand to put it on their dick and he can't breathe.

"You sure he's okay?" Some beefy blond guy Bucky's pretty sure is the captain of the team – he's the only one with boxers on and he looks uneasy – asks Brock just loud enough to be heard over the grunts and heavy breathing and slick sounds of jerking off around him.

Bucky does and doesn't want to know what he looks like right now. He's taken so many loads that he must be coated in come, can feel the itchy places on his chest where it's started to dry and the cold slickness of the fresher loads on his face. He's cold, he's sore, he's still kind of horny despite having effectively lost his enthusiasm for this scene a while ago. If Brock would just catch his eye then he could tap out, but Brock won't look at him. He's already taken the money, anyway. Bucky figures he can take it for the cash.

An hour feels like forever, or maybe he just checks out of his head, and then the bodies are gone and there's just Bucky, shivering on the locker room floor covered in come and nothing else. He blinks and sluggishly picks his head up, looking around for Brock and finding he's alone. What even… did his boyfriend leave? Did he _leave_ Bucky after he specifically asked him to make sure he got home after this?

"Hey." It's the big blond from before, crouching into his field of vision and draping a threadbare towel around Bucky's shoulders. It's warmer, which makes him feel more like a human. Bucky doesn't think he sucked this guy off, in the end. "Your boyfriend said you signed up for that."

"Yeah. I did." Bucky nods slowly, voice almost totally gone from his wrecked throat. "Where's he gone?"

"He left." The guy's big blue eyes look pained for some reason, rubbing one large hand over Bucky's arm like he's not sure he's allowed to touch. "Take a shower and I'll drive you home, man. The team really needed it, they didn't take it easy on you. Least I can do."

"Oh." Bucky grabs the towel to hold it around his shoulders for the warmth, taking the guy's hand when he stands up and offers it. He's been kneeling for so long his legs are kind of numb, it's nice to have something to hold onto when his head is all fuzzy. "He really left?"

"Yeah." Without being asked, the guy starts helping Bucky walk to the showers on his uncooperative legs. Being treated gently after the last hour feels… it's beyond what Bucky can articulate, especially when Brock isn't here to speak for him. "Take your time and warm up, okay? I got nowhere to be."

"Thanks." Bucky puts his hand on the wall for balance when the guy lets go at the entrance to the showers, looking over his shoulder to make sure he remembers the face properly for the next time Brock pulls some shit like this and he needs someone decent to compare his boyfriend to. "Uh…"

"Steve." The guy smiles tightly, concerned but earnest, and Bucky nods and shuffles into the showers before he remembers to give his name back.

He never does get his half of the money from Brock, but he figures his boyfriend wouldn't take advantage of him or anything like that. Surely not.


	5. Day Five: Humiliation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is set in the [Take Me to Church](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3447416/chapters/7560017/) verse.

Some things, Bucky just doesn't get. He's had his share of sexual experience (more than his share, if his reputation as the company bicycle is to be believed), but there are still some fairly vanilla kinks that he doesn't totally understand.

Like, Steve has always had a thing for being humiliated. He doesn't know _why_ , exactly, although Sam had made some comments about _fucking Catholics enjoying the guilt a little too much_ back when they were dating. Maybe he just likes to feel like his sins are still a little sinful, get the thrill of doing something naughty when there aren't a whole lot of rules left in his life these days. It's hard to feel bad about sex when your boyfriend looks like Bucky, but he does miss the little zing of shame sometimes.

Bucky doesn't get it at all, when Steve brings it up during one of the late-night sex talks they end up falling into every so often post-fuck. Humiliation has a different meaning to him, shame is something he knows too viscerally to be turned on by, but for Steve he's pretty willing to try anything once. It's not like Steve wants to do anything crazy, just see if Bucky calling him nothing but a hole to fuck while he's bottoming is fun or not.

Turns out it's spectacularly not fun, mainly because Bucky's self-esteem manages to spoil the party. As usual. Steve gets pretty frustrated by it sometimes.

 "You'd let anyone bend you over." He's shoving Steve's face into the blanket and fucking him hard and deep, which is great, but things quickly go south from there. "Big strong man, you let yourself get fucked by a little weakling, huh? You need it so bad you let a piece of shit like—"

That's as far as he gets before Steve is pushing him back so he can flip them over. He pins a flushed and very surprised Bucky underneath him with all his weight, because he's not going to let that sort of shit fly.

"Did I do it wrong?" Bucky grunts when Steve wraps a hand around his dick and starts jerking him off, slow and deliberate and looking him right in the eyes the whole time. It's kind of embarrassing to be watched like that, and Bucky looks away quickly. "Baby?"

"You're amazing." Steve is still _looking_ at him with that intensity on his face, grabbing Bucky's hair carefully with his free hand so he can't squirm away like he wants to. "You're beautiful. You're so hot I wanna fuck you all the time."

"You're embarrassing me." He can feel the heat in his face as he tries involuntarily to fuck up into Steve's grip, as much from humiliation as arousal. Hearing good things about himself never feels good, and yet with Steve crowded all over him like there's only the two of them in the entire world, it's somehow not as terrible as usual.

"Good." Steve sucks a kiss into his boyfriend's neck and draws a ragged noise of want out of him. "You deserve to feel good. You're not a weakling, you're not a piece of shit. You're awesome and I love you so much."

"Dirty talking my self-esteem? This is supposed to –" Bucky tries to sound pithy and fails because he can feel the tension pooling in his gut that means – "Gonna make me come."

"Beautiful when you come." Steve is rubbing off on the furrow of his hip and fuck, it sounds like he's close too. Bucky opens his eyes to see him watching him breathlessly, total adoration like just the sight of Bucky is everything he's ever wanted.

It's really intense to look someone in the eyes when you come, Bucky discovers. He's never done that before.

"This was supposed to be about humiliating you." He grumbles a few minutes later, when they're curled up together and snuggling in the afterglow. He really wants a smoke, but he's pretty sure his muscles are jelly right now so he doesn't bother trying to move. Steve snorts and tugs him tighter into his arms, nuzzling the ticklish spot behind his ear with a kiss.

"Yeah, but you kind of sucked at it. No offence." It's affectionate, but Bucky pinches him all the same.

"Offence!" Bucky whines, laughing when Steve pinches him right back. "I know I sucked. Sorry babe."

"S'okay, I kinda enjoyed embarrassing you a bit." Steve props himself up on his elbow and smirks because he thinks he's way funnier than he actually is. "A little self-esteem Viagra."

"Self-esteem Viagra. Oh my god. Why are we dating?" Bucky rolls over to bury his face in the pillow with a groan as Steve cracks up at his own brilliance.

It's official, Bucky thinks. His boyfriend is the _worst_.


	6. Day Six: Size Difference

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set in the [ Like Real People](http://archiveofourown.org/series/333154/) verse, pre-series.

Well. That's…

Not like his. At all. 

"What?" Bucky moves to cover his dick with his hand, stretched out fully nude on Steve's bed. He's supposed to be posing for a sketch, but he suddenly feels totally exposed under the weight of Steve's gaze. He hasn't said anything for a minute, most of which has been spent staring squarely at Bucky's dick. " _What_?!"

"N-Nothing." Steve stutters quickly, mouth dry at the sight before him. His best friend spread out golden and smooth and… big. 

"If you're just gonna laugh at me…" Spots of colour flush high on Steve's cheeks when Bucky reaches for his pants, embarrassed. 

"It's just. Uh. It's different to mine." He blurts out quickly, stopping Bucky in his tracks. Steve shifts the sketchbook now sitting in his lap self-consciously, like Bucky can see right through it. "You’re… bigger."

Bucky raises his eyebrows and Steve looks down at his hands, face burning. It's another stretch of awkward silence before Bucky snorts and Steve snaps his head up, ready to punch his friend in the nose if he's being laughed at. He's done it for less before.

"No shit, genius." But his eyes are soft, not mocking, and Steve's fist unclenches. It's very weird to be talking to Bucky when he's buck ass naked, especially because his erection  _moves_ when he talks and it's all very distracting. "S'proportional, ain't it? Bet yours is a good size for your body."

"I dunno." Steve shrugs, looking away again shyly and trying to avoid Bucky's eyes. "I guess."

"I mean. We could always… compare." There's a glint in Bucky's eyes when Steve looks up, shocked, and it sends a wash of heat right through his body. "Y'know. If you wanted to… check."

The blatant, shameless son of a bitch. Steve looks at him incredulously because  _really?_ , and Bucky has the audacity to wink. 

Steve can't decide if he wants to punch Bucky or kiss him, but he starts to unbutton his pants regardless. Story of their lives when it comes to each other: leap first and never ask questions.

A couple of minutes later, however, Steve pretty much regrets everything in the entire world and wishes he hadn't leapt quite so quickly.

"Christ, Steve, don't yank it off!"

"Sorry!" Steve squeaks, letting go of Bucky's dick like it's on fire. They were supposed to just be comparing but, well, things got a little out of hand. Or in hand, as the case may be. 

Bucky hisses and cups his junk protectively, because  _wow_ Steve's got a strong grip with those bony little fingers. Steve fidgets guiltily, drawing nervous patterns on Bucky's bare thigh with his fingertip. It's not like he knows what he's doing here, but he's pretty sure causing pain isn't the point of a handjob. 

"You have a dick, right? You know it hurts when you squeeze it like that?" Bucky's voice sounds different when he's hard, rougher even when he's nursing the results of Steve's fumbling, and Steve bites his lip even though he's blushing with embarrassment. 

"I don't mind being rough with mine." He mumbles awkwardly, looking up in surprise when Bucky just barks out a laugh. 

"Should've known a fella who picks fights for fun would like it rough. But I don't, alright?" He reaches over and snags Steve's wrist, guiding his hand back to his cock and wrapping his big hand over Steve's so he can demonstrate. "Just like… yeah, just like that. Nice and tight, twist your wrist a little. Just like that, baby. Fuck."

He lets go once Steve gets the hang of it, dropping his head back against the thin pillow with a soft groan. Steve finds he likes it a lot, wants to watch the reactions he wrings out of Bucky as he works the thick weight in his hand, soaks up every tensed muscle and moan. He could get to really like this, making Bucky fall apart for him, because of him. Steve might not be a powerful guy, but fuck if he doesn't feel powerful right now taking big, tough Bucky Barnes to pieces.  

They look each other in the eye when Bucky comes and well, that's something new for the spank bank. Steve lets him go and wipes his sticky hand on Bucky's arm, just to make him wrinkle up his nose in distaste. They stay still for a minute, slightly stunned at what just happened, before Bucky springs up and knocks Steve backwards, pinning him to the mattress with a grin that says he's up to no good. 

"So you like being rough with yours, huh?"

Yeah, Steve could really get to like this. 


	7. Day Seven: Creampie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MCU verse, not one of my established series but something cooked up for Kinktober. Might become an established verse though.
> 
> OT3: Sam/Steve/Bucky.

"Gonna come on your tits."

Bucky goes to pull out, but Steve whines and reaches to grab him, pushing back on his dick like he can't bear to lose it so soon. Sam makes a low sound from the other side of the room, hand on his cock speeding up at the sight of Steve on his hands and knees so desperate to keep getting fucked. Bucky's not always in the mood to run the show like this, but when he'd grabbed Steve by the scruff of the neck and thrown him on the bed when they got home from their morning run, Sam knew it was going to be one of _those_ days.

"What is it, honey?" Bucky yanks Steve's head up roughly to croon in his ear, gentle and harsh all at once as he pulls Steve off-balance. Steve _loves_ being manhandled, tossed around like he's still a hundred and ten pounds soaking wet, and he keens shamelessly at the pain. "Use your words, sugar. I ain't got all day."

"Inside me." He pants, voice rough from where Bucky mercilessly fucked his throat while he acted like he was trying to decide if he could be bothered to fuck Steve. What Steve and Sam have is different, Steve would crumble if Sam ever acted like he wasn't worth the trouble of fucking, but with Bucky somehow being treated like he's lower than dirt works. "Please. Want it inside me."

"Want me to fill you up, sweetheart?" Bucky keeps him yanked up, pulls him back to sit on his thighs as he meets Sam's eyes over Steve's shoulder with a smirk. "What d'you think, Wilson? Our boy deserve it?"

Steve looks at Sam like he's _begging_ for it, head starting to loll back on Bucky's metal shoulder because he's so lost in what he's feeling. He's so pliant when he gets like this, completely giving in to the moment like there's nothing in the world outside their bedroom door. They've joked that plenty of international incidents could have been prevented if someone had just thought to give Captain America a good dicking, but it's not really a joke if it's true.

"Fill that ass up." Sam decides to be magnanimous (as if it's a decision, he always gives Steve what he wants and that's exactly why Bucky asked him, so he could be nice without seeming too nice) and nods, twisting his fist around the head of his cock when Steve groans so _gratefully_ in relief. He's such a gorgeous slut like this, he doesn't even know.

When Bucky starts fucking to come, all Steve can do is hang on for the ride with his face shoved so hard into the mattress he can barely catch a breath. Bucky's brutal when he's close, losing some of the restraint he maintains for fear of hurting someone, and that's exactly what Steve loves the most. He never had a decent sense of self-preservation, and he's getting the bruises on his ass to show it.

Bucky growls as he pumps his load into Steve, grabbing his hips and pulling him back on his cock like he's trying to get as deep inside as possible. Sam has to grab the base of his dick hard to not come at the sight, especially when Bucky looks up at him with a dirty grin as he fucks through the aftershocks and Steve moans like he doesn't even realise he's making sounds anymore. Sam can't believe this is his life, sometimes.

"You want a turn on this?" Bucky slaps Steve's ass and talks over his head like he's an object who doesn't get a say as he pulls out unceremoniously. Steve moans weakly in response and Sam is ridiculously turned on by the pair of them. "Pretty loose now, but this hole sure looks pretty leaking my come."

Steve's hips twitch and he full-on whines at that. Bucky plays him so easily, Sam can't help being impressed.

This is how it usually works now. Sam will fuck Steve nice and slow, take his time and be gentle while Bucky goes off and does whatever he does when he's bored with defiling a national icon. He's still weird about affection sometimes, prefers to do his cuddling clothed and sometimes gets into guilty little snits about his viciousness in the heat of the moment. Aftercare isn't his strong point, to put it mildly, though he always makes sure Steve gets it.

Today, however, Bucky drags Sam into a filthy kiss as he gets on the bed. He explores his mouth lazily, like he's got all the time in the world and Steve isn't painfully hard and desperate in front of them, before letting Sam go and spreading Steve's cheeks so he can get a look at his hole.

"C'mon baby, let us see." He bites his lip when Steve pushes out a trickle of come, and Sam really needs to get inside that ass right now. "Good boy. Ain't that a picture, Sam? Gonna fuck him when he's messy like that?"

"Hell yeah, if you get the fuck outta my way." Sam doesn't shove Bucky out of the way to get his dick in Steve, but it's a near thing. Bucky snorts a laugh and, much to both of their surprises, shuffles up the bed to sprawl back against the pillows and watch them.

"Alright, Stevie. This is how it's gonna go." He folds his hands behind his head like he's watching something mildly interesting on TV rather than his boyfriends going at it. Sam _feels_ Steve clenching up at the thrill of humiliation and hell, this is going to be something else. "You fuck yourself on that big dick and show Sam a good time, get another load in that pretty ass. Then maybe, if you're good, I'll let you come."

The pair of them just look at him with wide eyes (this asshole would pull this as a surprise, Sam wants to punch him and kiss him all at once), and Bucky has the audacity to raise his eyebrows expectantly.

"Well?" He gets a hand on his cock – already hard again, fucking super-soldiers – and smirks. Cocky motherfucker, Sam can't deny he likes it. "Already said I ain't got all day."


	8. Day Eight: Leather/Latex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> set in the [College AU](http://archiveofourown.org/series/472231/), warnings for everything that comes with that verse. 
> 
> not porn.
> 
> set during one of Bucky's cam shows. warning for dissociation.

"The purple one's fine, just use that."

"It's bigger than the one we usually use, though." Nat eyes the impressive array of sex toys in Bucky's desk drawer (what else was he going to keep in there, textbooks?) and picks up the purple dildo dubiously. Her hand barely fits around the thick length of it, ridged and mean-looking. It'll fit in her harness, sure, but she's not convinced about using it. "You know you only have to _fake_ it hurting for the camera, right?"

"Are we really gonna talk about this when I'm three deep in my own ass? Like, I know we have no fucking boundaries, but seriously." Bucky – spread out on the bed with one knee drawn up to his chest as he fingers himself open – has an uncanny ability to sound perfectly neutral no matter what is going on with his body. The request had asked for Nat to fuck him dry, but they're not stupid. No prep on the stream doesn't mean _no prep_ , he can act just fine.

"Yes. Because you're doing that reckless thing again." Nat leans over and checks his pupils, totally ignoring Bucky's huff of indignation, but apart from a couple of beers earlier he's sober. "I'm not doing this if you're being weird."

 _Weird_ can describe a lot of things when it comes to Bucky, and Nat definitely doesn’t mean in terms of his kinks or his cam show requests. It sometimes unnerves her how careless he is with his body at times like this, not seeming to give a shit if he gets hurt or not. It's not even self-destructive, he just genuinely doesn't care. She knows enough about his background (the bare minimum necessary that he'd explained to her when she started domming him occasionally soon after they met) to expect a certain degree of detachment from his body when it comes to sex, but the disregard for his own feelings never really gets more comfortable to deal with.

"I'm not being weird." Bucky rolls his eyes and grunts softly when he pulls his fingers out of his ass to wipe the lube off them on the giant roll of paper towel he keeps by the bed for just such an eventuality. Smart. Professional. Nat hates to admit how hot he is when he's being an idiot, no wonder her fiancé has a massive crush on him. "I honestly don't care. It'll just look better compared to your body on the stream. You're little, it'll look huge."

"It is huge, idiot." Nat sighs but fits it into her harness anyway because what the hell? "Whatever. Your funeral, tough guy."

She's not here to babysit her friend, she's here to split him open on a giant piece of latex for paying customers. He's also wearing assless leather shorts while she does it, of course. Wouldn't want things to get too vanilla around here.

The request is specifically for Bucky to get fucked hard and dominated by a woman, with the implication being that he won't enjoy it. Even Steve had snorted at the request, questioning loudly why nobody ever seemed to want Bucky to _like_ anything on camera. He'd launched into a _long_ rant about the exploitation of sex workers, when his boyfriend's response had been that he provides a niche service (he's pretty when he cries and suffers, it's pretty much his USP), and Sam had recorded Steve's rage while Bucky watched him with heart eyes for the group snap story. They're ridiculous.

That's what Bucky's thinking about when Nat starts the show during the stream, shoves him to his knees and waits for his out-of-shot wink that he's green for them to get things started. Fellating a dildo is always weird, the artificial taste and the oddly clinical feeling of not being touched by something human trying to drag him back to things he doesn't think about, and so Bucky thinks about Steve being a dork and his sex rant and what they're going to watch at movie night later (he wonders if Sam will cuddle him if they watch a scary movie, that's always Bucky's favourite part of movie night). He doesn't really want to think about having a huge foreign object in his mouth, so he just thinks about something else.

He's so busy thinking about other things (his essay on the economic factors leading up to the election of the NSDAP in post-war Germany is due in a few days, he should really make a start on that) that he doesn't even mind when Nat bends him over and penetrates him with the thick dido. It kind of hurts at the start, but he's not really thinking about it so it doesn't bother him. Plus he's supposed to be quiet, she'd ordered him to be as part of the show, so there are no responses he needs to give that stop him from just kind of… drifting out of his head. He's done it so many times it's not even really a choice now, it's just comfortable. Safer.

It's a surprise when they're finished. Bucky feels like they just got started a minute ago and now Natasha is switching off the stream and pushing him to sit on the edge of the bed to save his aching knees. He must have been down there for a while. Huh.

"That wasn't hard." Nat wriggles out of the harness awkwardly, depositing it on the towels laid out for everything that needs to be cleaned. Bucky blinks and looks down at his hands, alien where they rest on his thighs. He's not hard, maybe he came already. "You're not too sore, right?"

"Nah, I'm good." He hears himself say distantly, sounding totally normal. He must have drifted a little further than he meant to if it's taking him this long to come back. That's annoying. "How much did we make?"

"Didn't you watch the numbers? Think it's safe to say takeout's on us tonight." She flops down on the bed beside him and blows out a long, tired breath before she gets a closer look at him and cocks her head to the side. "You okay there, soldier?"

"Yeah." Bucky shrugs nonchalantly, because he doesn't know how to explain 'I dissociated out of habit rather than necessity' without sounding like a total basket case. He'll be normal again in a few minutes, it's not like he's upset or anything, so he decides to just lie his way through it and maintain some image of normality. "Maybe a little droppy, I guess."

"Aw, c'mere." Bucky doesn't tend to drop after they play, but it's not implausible. It means Natasha snuggles him up against her chest in a hug he doesn't really feel rather than thinking he's an idiot, at least. "You were so good, I promise. Want me to go find Steve for you?"

God, no. Steve would take one look at him and know what was going on, and Bucky's trying _not_ to look like a crazy person today. He's fine, the last thing he needs is for this to get blown out of proportion.

"Nah. Just need a minute." He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, looking at the room around them and trying to catalogue the things he can see and feel. He's already feeling more present by the time he counts to a hundred, enough that he can prop himself up on his elbow and grin at Nat, at least. "So whose ass is better, mine or Sam's?"

"That's a biased fucking question." Nat looks like she's going to call him out on his bullshit, but she doesn't. Bucky's very grateful for that, sometimes his façade is all he has.

"Aw c'mon, I bet mine's the best." He whines theatrically as the feeling starts to come back into his fingers. He's getting past it. "I'm gonna need pics to compare."

"James."

"It's for science!"

Nat shoots him a withering look and Buck sprawls onto his back with a weary laugh. He's got to be more careful in future. He's not having another _fiasco_ like the one he and Steve had over dirty talk in this lifetime, not if he can help it.

Maybe with all the money they made today he should get back in fucking therapy, much as it pains him. At least before the next time he asks someone to shove a dido in his mouth, anyway.


	9. Day Nine: Asphyxiation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> set in the College AU. 
> 
> featuring Bucky trying to learn from his mistakes.

"You sure?" Sam definitely _isn't_ sure, and Bucky can't be mad at him for it because he's really not surprised.

After what happened during his last stream with Nat (he'd felt too guilty lying about dropping and came clean to her the following day so she could smack him on the back of the head and tell him he's an idiot), of course Sam is cautious about getting involved with something that might make a normal person freak out, let alone one with Bucky's history. It's frustrating, because Bucky really doesn't want to get into discussing specific triggers and how he's got no special negative associations with choking except for the obvious, but he can't blame Sam for being nervous.

"I'm sure." Bucky repeats, for the fifth time. He's even kept his pants on for this conversation, that's how much he's trying to make Sam feel comfortable (considering he rarely wears pants unless nudity would get him arrested, Bucky thinks that should communicate his seriousness enough). "I don't even have to be naked from the waist down, man. They just wanna see me get choked a little."

"A little." Sam repeats incredulously, scrubbing a hand nervously over his hair as he considers it. He's done way worse with Bucky than choke him for a couple of seconds at a time for his cam show, but he's managed to avoid hitting any of the landmines in his friend's head so far. He never wants to be someone Bucky's afraid of. "Steve wouldn't do it?"

"He can't." Bucky shrugs, of course seeming totally casual while he negotiates being asphyxiated. How is this Sam's life? Why is he friends with these people? "Choking freaks him out 'cause of his asthma."

"Right." Sam sighs through his nose to calm himself, try and look at the situation rationally. "Ever think about turning down some of these crazy requests, Barnes?"

Bucky genuinely cocks his head like the thought hadn't occurred to him before, and Sam fights the urge to groan. His fiancée is right, the causal lack of giving a shit about self-preservation is definitely the scariest thing about big bad Bucky Barnes. Honestly, Sam's just glad he asks his friends to help with the cam show now, it was much worse when anonymous guys were leaving him black and blue for the subscribers. At least Sam can trust that none of them are going to _actually_ hurt Barnes. Not more than he wants them to, anyway.

"Alright, I'll do it." He gives in, finally. "But I swear to god, one _hint_ that something's wrong…"

"I promise I'll tap out as soon as anything feels weird." Bucky sounds sincere, which is almost as troubling to Sam as the fact he's wearing pants. Maybe the thing with Nat really did shake some sense into him for maybe the first time ever. "Scout's honour."

"As if you were ever a goddamn boy scout." Sam mutters, crossing the room to change out of his college branded Muay Thai club shirt as Bucky cackles behind him and sets up the stream.

The scene is really not that extreme. It's not _safe_ , of course, but a few seconds of cutting off air and then immediate release is about as safe as breathplay gets. Sam figures he shouldn't be that bothered, but there's something about having Bucky prone on the bed underneath him, the way his face goes red and he gasps on nothing when Sam tightens the hand around his throat and takes Bucky's fragile, bird-boned life in his hands. He's sure people find it hot, for whatever reason, but it makes him feel…

Feel like he might not stop. Not because he wants to choke Bucky but now the thought is in his brain and what if he just goes with it by accident? Bucky looks up at him like be trusts Sam completely and he chokes the life out of him, what if he…

"Red." Bucky rasps quietly, the next time he gets a breath, and doesn't think he's ever seen Sam's shoulders slump in relief quite so fast. He sits up gingerly as Sam shuts the stream off with shaking fingers, reaches out to touch his friend's shoulder gently, half apology and half reassurance.

"You okay?" Sam asks, concerned, because Bucky safeworded so there must be something wrong. But it becomes apparent that Bucky isn't the one with the problem when he tugs Sam into his lap and wraps his arms around his shoulders without hesitation.

"Yeah. But you're not." Bucky rubs a hand over Sam's spine, slow and soothing in spite of his rough voice in a way Sam's never really experienced him being before, except that one time weed made him _super_ paranoid and Bucky sat up all night to make sure 'they' didn't get him. He goes with make-believe like that, for some reason, takes it seriously when someone watches a horror movie and then doesn't want to walk down the dark hall to the bathroom on their own. "Thanks for trying, man. But you don't have to put yourself through something you hate for my dumb cam show."

"I just, I didn't wanna hurt you." Sam can't believe he's really shaking now, fine tremors through his limbs where he's being cuddled into Bucky's tattooed chest. "Felt like I could've just not stopped, and you…"

God, he's actually tearing up. Sam tries to pull back and turn his face so he can't be seen, but Bucky puts a firm hand on his cheek and turns him back. He kisses Sam firmly too, sweet and soft but with the hint of authority that says he's there, he's sure. It reminds Sam of Natasha, like that, and that helps to calm him as much as the contact and the feel of Bucky's breath on his skin does.

"I'm okay." He nuzzles Sam's cheek and kisses him carefully again and there's no bravado between them, this is just honesty and touch and connection. Sam breathes out. "You didn't hurt me. I'm fine."

"Sounded like you were dying." Sam mumbles, not sure if he's being petulant or genuine. It doesn't matter when Bucky eases them back to curl up on the bed though, holding Sam like he's something precious. "I just… got scared."

"S'okay. You did good. It was scary, you were right to be scared." Sam gets the sudden impression that Bucky has no idea how to comfort someone like this and is repeating things Nat has said that made him feel better, and that kind of makes him want to laugh and cry at the same time. Bucky shushes whatever strangled noise makes it out of his throat, pressing another gentle kiss to Sam's lips and letting him kiss back as harsh as he needs.

"Never doing that again." Sam breaks the kiss to let him know, and Bucky squeezes him tight and nods back. This kid had better grow some sense of self-preservation or Sam's going to forcibly wrap him in cotton wool for a while.

"Never." Bucky promises quietly, a little heated like he's mad at himself. This time, curled up on his bed still shaking with Bucky wrapped around him like a guilty octopus shield, Sam might actually believe him.


	10. Day Ten: Edgeplay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TFA verse.

"Seriously?" Howard could at least try and sound less astonished, save Bucky's red fucking face a little. "Out of you and Rogers, I didn't expect _you_ to be the one who's never done it with a fella."

"Fuck you." Bucky snaps, fiddling with a button on his shirt so he can look at something – anything – that's not Howard fucking Stark in this goddamn fucking lab. He hates being underground, even when there isn't a dumb inventor grinning at him. "I just. Before the serum… it wasn't as if dames were giving Steve the time of day, and nobody expected him to live that long or get married or whatever. Wasn't like he was losing anything being a deviant on top of that. But…"

"But you had to be a good boy, right?" He sounds way too amused, and Bucky raises his head to tell Stark to go to hell before he realises just how close they're standing. His mouth snaps shut with a click, and Howard smirks. "You had something to lose if it got out you were queer, so you dated like a gentleman and did everything you were meant to. You got to be, what are you, twenty-five? And I bet you never even kissed a guy."

"You ain't fucking kissing me." Bucky takes a step back and ends up backed up against a counter heaving with metal and wires. It doesn't make him feel any better about the situation when Howard laughs at him jumping back like the virgin he is.

"Nah, that's for Rogers. Right?" Howard cocks his head and steps into Bucky's space again, close enough that Bucky can smell cigarettes and whiskey and engine oil. It makes his heart pick up, blood rushing to his ears (among other places) when he gets that hint of something so fundamentally _man_ , something he's never had, and Howard seems to like however it makes his face look. "So what d'you need me for, Sergeant? Pretty sure Rogers would get on his knees the second you told him you were interested."

"That's not… I…" Bucky's voice cracks embarrassingly and he has to close his eyes to force the words out. This is probably the shittiest idea he's had since refusing his discharge and staying with the Howlies to keep Steve's ass out of the fire. This might even be a shittier idea than that, on balance. "I wanna… be good. When –. If we –. I mean..."

"You wanna get some experience, right? And you thought you'd come ask the guy who fucks anything that moves?" Howard's clearly amused by Bucky's predicament, moves closer still into his space until – Jesus Christ – he's bodily pressing Bucky against the counter. It takes about .5 of a second for Bucky to pop wood, which has got to be a record and kind of makes his head spin. "What makes you think I'd go with a man, Barnes?"

"I've seen the way you stare at Steve's ass, gotta be at least a little queer." He can feel Howard's chest press against his when he laughs and shit, Bucky is _so_ much queerer than he thought. "You gonna help me out or what, Mr Stark? 'Cause I ain't here for laughs."

"Got your balls back, huh? That's cute." Bucky would flush harder if it were physically possible at the fatherly, indulgent tone in Howard's voice. It's totally different from the last time someone called him cute, which had been Steve yelling at him about something back in their apartment ( _I know you broke the fucking dish Buck. You're a dumb shit, don't try and be cute about it!_ ). This isn't how he expected his next encounter with the word to go. As if he'd  _expected_ any of this.

"Stark." He tries to sound firm but it comes out sort of pleading instead. Bucky's never going to live this shit down, not when Howard's grin turns shark-like and predatory.

"We're gonna play a little game. This is how it works, okay?" There are fingers unbuttoning his fly and Bucky has to shut his eyes and take a deep breath to not go cross-eyed from the feeling when Stark _finally_ gets him out of his pants. It's cold down here and Howard's hand is so warm, somehow. "I'm gonna jerk you off like this, and you're gonna tell me when you're about to come. Can you follow that order, Sarge?"

He's about five seconds away from humping Howard's fist if he doesn't _move_ , so Bucky doesn't even bother to snark. He just nods hurriedly and groans with relief when Howard starts jerking him off, slow and steady like they've got all the time in the world and aren't going to get Bucky blue-carded and sent home for good if they forgot to lock the door to the lab. It's late and there's practically nobody around though, and with a big, callused hand finally rubbing his dick, Bucky can't bring himself to care.

It's an _embarrassingly_ short amount of time before Bucky starts to feel like he's ready to come, which is exactly why he didn't want his shitty first time to be with Steve. He's been making some humiliating noises, the kind of whines and whimpers he can't hold back no matter how quiet he tries to be, and he's pretty sure they're doing it for Stark because he can feel his hard-on even through all their clothes. The fact he's got a guy hard doesn't help with the whole _shit he's about to come_ feeling at all.

"M'gonna—" He mutters quickly, hips twitching as he tries to fuck Howard's fist to completion and—

And then there's nothing but cold air on his dick, and his hips buck at nothing as he lets out a grunt of irritation. He was _right there_ , another second or two and he'd have made a mess of his uniform and enjoyed it.

"The fuck are you doing?!" He feels drunk when he looks Howard in the eye, irritable as the urgency of his orgasm fades from his body. "I was gonna—"

"It's all about increasing your stamina." Looking way too pleased with himself, Howard gives it a minute before he puts his hand on Bucky again. The lack of stimulation has cooled him down enough that he's not about to blow, so when Howard starts rubbing him off again it's nearly like starting from scratch. "Do this a few times and you won't pop off in five seconds flat with your fella."

Steve, his fella? Bucky fucking hopes so after he's put himself through this bullshit with the most annoying asshole this side of the Atlantic.

Howard works him up five times in total, letting Bucky get closer to the edge each time before taking his hand away and removing any stimulation that might get him off. It's not that bad in the beginning, but after the second time Bucky's moaning like a whore, and by the fourth he's clinging to the counter with white knuckles and fucking the air as he practically begs Howard to let him come.

So Howard does, sort of. He takes his hand away a second later than he should have, right when Bucky can't pull himself back from the edge, and watches with glee as Bucky comes without coming. Which, he's decided extremely recently, is the _worst thing in the world_.

"Bastard! You fucking bastard." Bucky gasps, legs shaking as a pathetic amount of come dribbles out of his dick and he gets no pleasure from it whatsoever. "The fuck did you do that for?!"

"You want your first kiss to be with your boy, I figured you'd want your first _time_ to be with him too." Howard tries to look contrite and totally fails because he looks like he's already planning some more shit he can do to torture Bucky. "Did I get my wires crossed somewhere?"

"I hate you." Bucky groans and leans back against the counter, tense and horny and very, _very_  frustrated. "This had better work."

"Well, repeated applications are probably the best idea. For maximum effect." He sounds smug about it, and Bucky wants to punch him.

"Great." Bucky closes his eyes and wonders what Steve is doing right now. Not being jerked off in Stark's lab, that's pretty much the only thing he knows is _not_ happening because no matter how reckless Steve is, he's clearly not as stupid as Bucky. "So helpful."

Howard pretty much cackles at the _done_ tone of his voice. This had better have the desired effect or Bucky swears he doesn't care how valuable to the army Stark is, he's putting a bullet through his ass.


	11. Day Eleven: Master/Slave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TFA verse, none established in my other stories just something cooked up for kinktober. 
> 
> Master/slave but like... look Bucky just gives his boy what he needs.

As soon as they get the canvas closed behind them – almost before it's fastened and shit, that's a risky fucking game – Steve is falling to his knees with a heavy thud in the dirt. Bucky takes one look back at him and squares his shoulders, turning to run a hand through Steve's drooping hair and cup the nape of his neck firmly. The touch makes Steve's whole body shudder, the feeble tremble of exhaustion that has nothing to do with physical tiredness. Who knows if he's even able to be tired physically anymore.

"S'been a long day, sweetheart." Bucky tries to wind him down the same way most times, keep some kind of consistency in the complete anarchy that makes up their world at war. "Why don't you take off my boots, huh?"

It's a luxury to not sleep in their boots, in the relative safety and predictability of the base, and Steve immediately starts working on Bucky's laces with clumsy fingers. What he lacks in skill, he makes up for in sheer determination; he's been like that since he was little.

Bucky's not exactly clear on when they started doing this. Before the war, Steve would get himself into such intense bouts of frustration or anger that he couldn't catch his breath, get himself into a state he described when it passed as being swelled up like a balloon with rage. Pretty much the only way to get him out of that was for Bucky to grab the back of his neck in spite of his struggling, shove Steve's head onto his shoulder and hold him tight until he gave in, finally sagged as the tension drained away under Bucky's grip.

That was before. And now… Now Steve doesn't get himself into frustrated spirals about feeling useless anymore; it's the weight on his shoulders that grinds him down until he's so close to the dirt that Bucky has to shove him down the last few inches to make him take the load off. They'd picked things back up somewhere after Azzano, when Bucky's new hypervigilance meant he picked up the glazed look in Steve's eyes and shoved him up against a tree outside of camp to kiss him. His hands could shake, he could wake up screaming, but as long as _Steve_ was okay, he could handle anything. And if that meant he had to take care of his little Stevie who was now big, then that's just the way it was.

"Good boy." Bucky sighs and cracks his toes in relief when Steve gets his boots off, tucking them neatly next to one of the cot beds in the tent. Steve's rank entitles him to his own space, but the Howlies are all familiar with Sarge's nightmares and nobody had even batted an eye when they'd decided to bunk up together.

Steve sags a little under the praise, just a hair that nobody else would catch, and Bucky twitches a tired smile because he knows what his boy needs now.

"S'that what you want, sugar? You wanna be my good boy?" Bucky cups Steve's chin roughly and yanks his face up when he takes too long to answer, squeezing enough to get his focus sharp after a long day. "Words, sweetheart. Don't make me tell you again."

Steve shivers at that, another layer of his enforced control sliding away. He rarely needs Bucky to actually do anything that might constitute a punishment, just knowing that someone's there to enforce some kind of order to his chaos is usually enough. He swipes his tongue across his dry lips, and Bucky makes a mental note to get him to drink something soon before Steve speaks.

"Please, sir." He says it so quietly, like he's scared God will hear him. "I wanna be your good boy."

"That's right, you do." Bucky's touch turns gentle again, skimming his fingertips down Steve's neck and smoothing the tense muscle he finds turning into iron knots at the start of his shoulders. "Get your boots off and get on the bed. Don't make me wait."

Steve scrambles to obey, shoving off those hideous red boots as fast as he can get the laces undone and settling himself onto one creaking cot. Bucky eyes the thing suspiciously, not sure it'll take their combined weight now Steve is about four times as heavy as he was, but he figures he'll take the chance and slings his leg over Steve to straddle his ridiculously broad chest. Steve relaxes further under his weight, being bracketed in, and Bucky leans down awkwardly to kiss him because he can't resist when Steve looks at him with big eyes like that.

"You too tired to fool around?" He asks, just making sure, and huffs out a laugh when Steve shakes his head so quick he probably gives himself a concussion. "M'gonna fuck your face, baby boy. Maybe I'll let you come after if you're real good. Got it?"

Steve is already mouthing at Bucky's pants before he's finished talking, which is generally the kind of infraction Bucky should give him a slap for, but he's pretty sure Steve isn't angling for punishment today so he lets it slide. Instead he pets Steve's hair and lets him unbutton Bucky's pants to get his dick out, suck on it a little under his own steam before the show really starts.

That's when Bucky gets a hand around Steve's thick throat, pins him to the bedroll as he uses the other hand to feed his dick into that hot, slick mouth just drooling for his cock. Steve has no idea what he looks like when he gets like this, when he lets Bucky fuck his throat so deep he can't breathe until he's allowed to, when as soon as he can catch a breath he begs for more with his voice wrecked and fucked out. All the super strength just seeps out of him until he's pliant as a ragdoll, just a toy for Bucky to use as he sees fit and be thanked for the pleasure.

By the time Bucky's hips hitch and make Steve gag, the spasms pushing him over the edge and making him spill down his throat with a barely-stifled groan, Steve has already come in his pants. Bucky squeezes the wet spot and looks up at the flushed, starry-eyed look on Steve's face and smiles softly, lets it all slide because his boy's finally in the place he needs to be. He did that.

Bucky can't do much for him these days, not like he used to, but nobody else can give Steve this. He's not totally useless, at least Steve still needs him for this.

"Such a good boy. My good boy." He croons softly, getting them situated with the second cot pulled over so there's a little more space to curl up together. Steve makes a weak sound in response, hoarse and glassy and somewhere else entirely as Bucky presses a kiss to his forehead. "You flying, sweetheart?"

"Mmm." Steve murmurs, pawing clumsily at Bucky's shirt until he gets the idea and wraps Steve up in his arms like he's still a hundred pounds soaking wet. He gets like this after, sometimes, like he's floated off into some quiet space in his head somewhere to be warm for a while. Bucky loves it; it's the safest he can possibly get his boy under the circumstances.

"Love you." Steve slurs after a minute or two, slow as treacle. Bucky holds him tight against the chill and nuzzles a kiss to his hair, trying not to think about the light fading and how he's going to be shaking Steve awake with nightmares soon enough.

"Love you too." He wishes he had a warm place to go in his head, sometimes. But he doesn't, so he just squeezes Steve tight and lets himself enjoy murmuring sweet nothings in his boy's ear like there isn't a war going on around them. He hopes and prays that Steve can be his good boy for the rest of their damn lives, however long that is.

The night passes as he listens to Steve's deep, even breathing and watches the light fade into purple, then pink, then slowly morning yellow outside their little haven. It's easier not to sleep.


	12. Waxplay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> post CATWS/CACW. no set verse, just two oldies being idiots.

"… Are you reading instructions on your phone?"

Bucky could _not_ sound bitchier about it as he shuffles around impatiently on the bed, glaring at Steve looking dumb and handsome in the light of his phone screen and the flickering candles. This is supposed to be _romantic as shit_ , he'd even removed his body hair (well, pubes. HYDRA took care of his chest for some reason Bucky is very glad he doesn't remember) for the occasion. The last thing he needs when he's sprawled out feeling like a plucked turkey is Steve dicking about on Pinterest.

"I'm just making sure I didn't miss anything." Given that apparently Bucky was the nerd before the war, he finds it slightly hilarious that Steve is now so committed to research. Even if it is about bedroom shit that Bucky would rather just _try_ and figure out as they went.

"Steve, you bought the special low-temp candles and all kinds of shit. You figured this out about nine different times." Bucky tries not to sound impatient, because he knows Steve is only nervous, and props himself up on his metal elbow to look him in the eye. "I'll tell you if anything's wrong, okay?"

"Okay." Steve agrees, at length, and shoves his phone onto the side table before pushing Bucky back down onto the mattress. That's more like it. "Just hold still, I don't wanna hit anything by accident."

It's hot when he makes out with Bucky a little, gets him hard before he picks up the specially-selected soy candle. And then—

"Mother _fucker_!" Bucky jerks up involuntarily, scrubbing his hand across his sore pec and making the wax ball up. Steve makes a _yikes_ face and sets the candle back down hurriedly.

"You okay?!" Steve has his hands kind of hanging in the air like he's stopping them from flapping. It's cute, but _shit_.

"That stings like fuck." Bucky still has his hand protectively over his pec, and maybe he's being a baby about it but Steve _expressly_ told him he was only supposed to hurt if he enjoyed it these days. "Who decided this was a fun idea?!"

"Maybe do me?"

"Oh, I'll do you."

"I mean. Buck. Just swap." It's curiosity more than anything else – behaviour Bucky is very used to from Steve _it'll be fine just throw it at me_ Rogers.

They switch positions and Bucky finds it somewhat vindicating when Steve yelps and jerks upright at a slop of hot wax to his abs. He's not just being a baby, apparently, even Mr Adonis thinks it stings.

"I'm cancelling the internet." Bucky murmurs half an hour later, when everything is cleaned up and they've officially called time on their adventures in waxplay. It was a nice idea, but it just didn't hit the mark like getting spanked stupid does. "It's banned. You're not allowed to look up nonagenarian sex tips on there anymore."

Steve shoves him out of bed. Bucky grabs the sheets instinctively and pulls them both down with a foundation-shattering thump. It's not all bad; at least they get to christen the carpet tonight.


	13. Day Thirteen: Double Penetration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dedicated to my boy J, happy belated birthday bro! y'all send him some love on tumblr at jamesraydean. 
> 
> set in the same verse as the bukkake chapter. 
> 
> **warning for very dubious consent (intoxication).**

Steve has been getting shitloads of Facebook notifications all day – weirdly, considering he pretty much never posts and only keeps his profile for team stuff – but he doesn't get a chance to check them until he's finally at home after what's felt like the longest school day of his life.

It's mainly the anticipation of after school that's made it feel so long today, he muses as he tosses his bag down next to his bedroom door and flops down on the bed. Ever since the blowjob gangbang in the locker room, he and Bucky have been keeping in touch over instant messenger. Maybe it's weird to make friends with (and secretly have a crush on) the guy who blew your team for money (and has a weird older boyfriend, Steve is in way over his head here), but he and Bucky actually get along like a house on fire. They have the same dorky sense of humour – Steve had been weirdly surprised to know that the guy he'd last seen scrubbed pink after being covered in come is a sci-fi nerd – and they're hanging out to watch shitty movies this evening when Bucky's done with work.

So, that's why Steve's day felt like the longest in the entire world: he's way more nervous about hanging out with a friend than he should be. It's not like it's a date… he's pretty sure.  

His laptop actually boots up in less than ten minutes (next time the hand-me-down from his cousin blue screens on him it's going out the fucking window), and Steve checks in to see if Bucky's online yet, trying not to feel disappointed when he's still at work. He's not sure what Bucky actually does for a job, enquiries have been met with a vague explanation that probably means he's either an assassin or a hooker, but he usually knocks off around fiveish. Which means Steve still has plenty of time to _clean the pipes_ , so to speak, before they hang out.

A boner sitting on the couch with Bucky is totally not a thing he needs to happen today. Definitely not.

He figures he'd better check and see what momentous event has occurred on Facebook before he gets to the porn, though. His team can get involved in some stupid shit, especially concerning what they think is appropriate to post to the public team page, so Steve tries to set a good example as captain and fight the fires he can't prevent. There have been minimal dick pics posted to the feed since he started checking on it, anyway, although Barton's ass has appeared on several occasions he'd rather forget.

Today, though, the thing causing all the notifications is actually posted to the private team group. It's just a URL to some video hosting site, but the scores of comments underneath are what give Steve pause. A quick scroll-through only tells him they're mostly the team boasting about how awesome they are (the usual), so he shrugs and clicks on the link to find out what all the fuss is about.

The locker room is immediately recognisable from the grainy cell phone footage, held mostly steady by someone observing the group of people in the middle of the room. Steve freezes and his face blooms with sudden heat as he realises it's Bucky on his hands and knees on the floor, head hanging down and dark hair swinging as one of the linebackers fucks him mercilessly from behind. The image does absolutely nothing to help Steve's suddenly very insistent boner.

When the hell did this happen? Bucky told him just a few days ago that he'd never do a gangbang again after his boyfriend disappeared and left him there last time, could he really have got that hard up for money since? It's not like Steve can judge how the guy spends his time, but it just seems… odd. Steve wouldn't say he feels like Bucky's boyfriend talks him into shit a lot, but that's kind of the impression he's getting. He privately thinks Brock is an asshole, but he doesn't exactly know Bucky well enough to say anything about it. Not yet, anyway.

The video is still playing in his browser, Bucky letting out the most ridiculously pornographic moans as he gets pounded, shameless and uncontrolled, and… well, Steve's only human. He gets his pants open and his cock out in record time, swallowing the vague guilt that this isn't something he's supposed to be seeing as he strokes himself. He didn't participate in the last 'team destressing' exercise, maybe they just didn't bother to invite him this time. Or maybe Bucky didn't want him to know he was letting the team fuck him again.

Not that he thinks about it too hard, as another guy takes the first one's place and pulls Bucky back on his dick hard enough to make him yelp in surprise, because he's horny and stupid and he can deal with the guilt later. Right now he's getting to jerk off to a video that feels like his own personal porn, and he can't exactly complain about that.

"S'okay. I can take two at a time." There's a weird quality to Bucky's voice, tinny through the shitty phone mic, that stops Steve's hand in its tracks. "Jus' one of you lay down and I can sit on it."

He sounds…

Steve almost scrolls the player back to listen again, but Bucky keeps talking as he gets two guys positioned so he can take both their cocks at once. There's a weirdly loose quality to his vowels, kind of a slur to the words that makes it sound like he's really, really tired. He overbalances sideways when he goes to straddle the guy on the floor, giggling when he has to be caught and held upright, and Steve realises what's off about him as Bucky's manhandled onto two dicks with sounds that are more like pain than pleasure.

The slurring, the tired sound, the lack of balance… he's drunk. As hell.

It all slams into him at once. Oh. Jesus. It's not that Bucky changed his mind about doing a gangbang for the money, it's that he's got no idea he did one. He told Steve he had a hangover last Thursday, that he didn't remember most of the night before after he and Brock went to a bar for dinner. Brock must have arranged it so he got his boyfriend drunk and –

The IM notification pings in another tab and snaps Steve out of his horrified reverie. He closes out of the window hurriedly, nagging boner not mourning the loss of Bucky's drunken panting as he's split open by two guys at all.

_Hey, I'm done! Wanna grab food before shit movie fest?_

Bucky doesn't know he got fucked by a football team, and he definitely doesn't know that the video is all over the internet. Steve is supposed to sit around and watch crappy movies with him all evening, knowing his friend doesn't have a clue he's been violated. He swallows hard and considers telling Bucky what he's seen, breaking the news that…

_Steeeeeeeeeve are u there???_

Steve swallows again and replies to Bucky's message, pretending his fingers are a lot steadier than they really are. He doesn't even know how he'd begin to broach the subject, maybe he can just get the team to take the video down and spare Bucky having to know about any of this shit. It seems like the kinder option, to not saddle Bucky with the knowledge if he can spare him. Steve's not sure he'd want to know if their positons were reversed.

He can keep his shit together tonight and then bring down hell on the team tomorrow. It'll be fine. It has to be.

_Sure, tacos?_

_You're amazing xxx_

Steve scrubs a hand over his face and lets out a long sigh through his nose at the wash of affection that runs through him at Bucky's reply. He can totally keep his shit together tonight and not traumatise or try and make out with his friend.

Totally.


	14. Day Fourteen: Watersports

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> set in the College AU verse, feat. camboy Bucky.

As cam requests go, this isn't the weirdest one Bucky's ever received or fulfilled. After some of the shit he's done for his subscribers, pissing himself on camera shouldn't even faze him at this point, but he can't deny there's heat in his cheeks when the request reaches the top of his to do list.

There's just something oddly humiliating about the idea still, maybe because there's nothing inherently sexual in it for him to focus on. Still, it's a very popular request that will probably make him a shitload of money, and with Christmas around the corner (and Halloween before that, during which he intends to take some really great but expensive drugs and get bombed out of his mind because he does _not_ have good memories about this time of year) he could use the cash. So, with only a little trepidation, he thinks  _fuck it_ and updates his stream schedule for the week. 

Bucky spends Thursday drinking way more water than someone who gives as little of a shit about their health as him should. Nat and Clint definitely exchange looks behind his back when he finally announces he's going to work and takes a few beers upstairs with him to start the stream, but he's going to need both the liquid and the liquid courage to get this one done. His life is so fucking weird sometimes, he's glad Steve is visiting his Mom for the weekend and he doesn't have to explain _this_ one to his beleaguered boyfriend.  

He's already squirming in his seat when he starts the stream – as requested – and sits there chatting with subscribers and drinking two of the beers before he starts to feel like he really, _really_ needs to go to the bathroom. A guy stumps up a hundred bucks for him to wait another fifteen minutes, and it feels like the longest quarter-hour of Bucky's entire fucking life, he's grabbing his crotch and practically dancing in his computer chair by the end of it. He's not totally sure he'll actually make it to the bathroom if this goes on much –

The timer clicks over to fifteen minutes and Bucky grabs up his laptop, keeping the stream going as he makes his way to the bathroom as gracefully as possible when he feels like he's about to piss himself. He shoves it onto the counter so the camera is pointed at the tub and then considers his options momentarily, finally running out of brain space and just moving to stand in the bath with his jeans on. The request had asked for 'wetting' specifically, so he figures that probably means with clothes.

Despite how desperate he is to piss, it takes a minute for Bucky to make himself actually piss his pants. His body doesn't want to do it, and he has to grab at the tile with one hand and fight all his instincts to force out the first streams that make the ache in his belly more intense.

Which is exactly when the bathroom door that he was in too much of a hurry to fucking lock opens. Because of _course_ Sam would want to take a shower while he's live on the internet pissing himself.

" _Oh_." The sound that punches out of Bucky when Sam's eyes widen at him is weirdly wounded, cheeks flushing with the intense embarrassment of being seen –

Another spurt of piss soaks through his jeans, turning the denim dark where it clings wetly to his crotch, and Bucky hurriedly cups his hand around himself like it will somehow shield him from the embarrassment of Sam watching him piss himself on camera. 

Sam, for his part, blinks in shock at the sight of his roommate standing fully-clothed in the bathtub pissing his pants. He opens his mouth to say something, but then clocks the laptop propped up on the counter and closes his mouth again as comprehension dawns. 

Bucky is humiliated to his core, hot and cold all over at the shame of being caught like this – by Sam of all people – but he's still extremely desperate to piss and now he's started he just can't stop himself. He lets out a weak moan of relief as the warm wetness starts to spread down his legs, the ache in his bladder finally abating. Sam stands there for a second like he can't tear himself away, then quickly backs out of the room and closes the door behind him, probably to go order shares in brain bleach online and hope they never have to speak of this again.

Bucky stands there in the tub for a minute after he's finally done, chest heaving and heart pounding in his ears from the humiliation. He eventually forces his shaky limbs to move and heads over to the laptop, forcing a smile as he explains to the subscribers that his roommate walked in and got the eyeful of his life just then. He tries to sound cocky about it, but from the responses he thinks they prefer it when he doesn't.

_did someone really walk in + catch you_

_omg how do u like getting caught wetting baby_

_so fkn hot when yr embarrassed u should make yrself cum now_

Bucky ignores all the messages and forces a smile before giving his usual signing-off spiel and shutting off the camera. He hurriedly yanks off his itchy jeans (after finally locking the fucking door) and gets into the shower, turning the water as hot as it will go before having quite possibly the most confused jerk off session of his life. He doesn't think it's the piss thing that has him shooting all over the tiles in minutes – at least he hopes not – but something about being humiliated in front of Sam sends a thrill zinging right through all his most sensitive nerves. 

He and Steve have discussed asking Sam and Nat if they want to get involved with them sometimes, but after what Sam just witnessed Bucky's pretty sure it'll stay a pipe dream for the foreseeable future. He really needs to buy his roommate a good Christmas present this year to make up for all the mind-scarring bullshit he's witnessed because of Bucky.

He could definitely afford something good if he did another wetting stream, Bucky muses as he dries off and shoves his rinsed-out pants in the laundry basket. He could stand to do it again, especially after he sees the ridiculous money he made from being legitimately humiliated on camera. He can handle being embarrassed, it wasn't so bad after all.

Steve is  _never_ gonna believe this. 


End file.
